


memories, mistakes, and milk

by maruyaaya



Series: The Traitor Trilogy [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Maybe Not A Happy Ending, Traitor Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), You can decide, and how much i excuse his actions throughout the whole fic, can you tell i am a tubbo stan by how much tubbo character study is in the beginning, its not his fault but he is and thats bad of him, neither has tubbo, no beta we die like lmanberg, phil is unknowingly manipulating ranboo, ranboo and tubbo are best friends your honor, ranboo has done nothing wrong, thats my tag lets go boys, the ending is open, they are just both being manipulated, this is PLATONIC guys, uh angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maruyaaya/pseuds/maruyaaya
Summary: "How loyal are you to L'Manberg?""Excuse me?"
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, no romance lol
Series: The Traitor Trilogy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110362
Comments: 5
Kudos: 146





	memories, mistakes, and milk

**Author's Note:**

> listen listen hear me out, i know that ranboo is technically a traitor already but i started writing this before that and lets just imagine ranboo traitor but like more fleshed out because i wanted tubbo & ranboo angst i spent too long on this to delete it because ranboo is canon traitor okay okay

Ranboo knows who he is. 

Sure, he’s got short term memory issues and sure, he can’t really remember what he did yesterday at all, but he knows exactly who he is. He’s Ranboo. Half enderman, half something else that he’s never really been able to put his finger on. He cares for his friends and he’s got pets with the best names he could ever think of (like is there really a better name for a cat than Jjjjjjjjeffrey?) 

And as he stares up at the rain pouring down the sky, he almost wishes that he doesn’t know exactly who he is. If he didn’t already know everything about himself, perhaps he’d have a little more fun in finding out the other things. 

But the thought very quickly fades away as he catches sight of Tubbo, running down the spruce boardwalks of L’Manberg, green tie nearly flying off his neck and hair more messy than Ranboo can ever remember seeing it. Yes, he does know everything about himself and even if it might be boring from time to time, he figures that he wouldn’t take the chance of not meeting Tubbo again. 

“Ranboo!” Tubbo is pressed against Ranboo’s window, slender fingers tapping against the glass as he tries to catch his attention. Ranboo rolls his eyes and grabs his helmet, making sure to have something covering him from the rain. (It’s a lesson he learned the hard way that rain feels like it’s burning its way through his scalp. He guesses that he should’ve realized that endermen don’t like the rain.) 

Ranboo waves hello to Tubbo as soon as he leaves his house. Tubbo shoots him a smile, green eyes lighting up as he practically skips up to the taller man. Tubbo reaches for Ranboo’s hand, intertwining their fingers together as he begins to drag him through L’Manberg without any explanation whatsoever. 

Tubbo’s hands are much smaller than his (probably due to the fact that Ranboo is a whole foot taller than him, being 6’6” of gangly limbs that he can’t seem to control and head so high up it bumps into nearly every door frame) and are covered in scars, running their way up Tubbo’s face. 

Tubbo’s told him the story plenty of times before. The festival in which Technoblade had shot him, to which he’d barely survived. It had happened before Ranboo had moved into L’Manberg and before he’d met his now best friend (Ranboo’s hand had slipped along his sword when Tubbo told him for the first time, feeling rage run up his spine that he wasn’t there and couldn’t do _anything_ to protect him). There’s a particularly bad scar that runs up the side of Tubbo’s face, etched into his flesh like a permanent reminder of the man who had betrayed him for nothing but personal ideals. 

“Hey Tubbo, uh, where are we going?” Ranboo finally asks as he realizes that they’ve passed that one specific tree about three times already and he doesn’t think he’s cut out to be running across countries all day. 

“I have absolutely no idea, memory boy,” Tubbo laughs, coining the nickname that he’d decided for Ranboo the second he’d seen that memory book. It’s quite endearing, Ranboo has to admit because he doesn’t think that he’d ever admit it to Tubbo, but he does quite like the name (Tubbo is one of maybe two people who can joke about his memory problems as much as they want). 

(Ranboo doesn’t actually remember who the other one is, but he knows that there definitely is another one he trusts that much.) 

“So you’re just dragging me through L’Manberg for no reason?” Ranboo stops running, causing Tubbo to turn to look at him with a pout on his face. Tubbo releases Ranboo’s hand, dropping down to the ground with a thud. 

Tubbo scoots underneath a tree, pushing the branches above him to create a makeshift shelter from the rain. Ranboo follows him, taking a seat next to his best friend. 

“I’m just really tired, Ranboo. I trust you the most out of everyone. In fact, sometimes I want to ask you to be my vice president and then I realize that ‘no wait, I can’t just kick Quackity out because I basically already did that to Tommy’ and I don’t know if you’d even want to be in a such a high position of power,” Tubbo begins to ramble, leaning against the trunk of the tree as he loosens the tie around his neck, “it’s really tiring being president and I don’t get to hang out with you that much.” 

“Is that really it?” Ranboo asks, fiddling with his own tie. Tubbo nods to answer his question and reaches over to Ranboo’s tie, loosening it until it’s barely even considered tied just so that it can match the state of his own disheveled tie. 

Ranboo waits for Tubbo to speak again, but the shorter boy doesn’t finish and instead opts to stare up at the dark sky. There’s still rain falling down, but the tree that the two boys are sitting under is enough coverage so that they’re moderately dry. 

“I didn’t know you were that tired. You could’ve asked me to help.” Ranboo looks back at Tubbo and he thinks that he probably should’ve realized just how tired Tubbo is. The dark bags under his eyes only seem to grow by the day and Ranboo can’t remember the last time he’d shown up to Tubbo’s house to find him sleeping. 

(It had been nearly 5 am and Ranboo had just gotten home from searching through the forests for a woodland mansion. He’d walked towards his house, prepared to finally get to sleep since he could already feel his eyes beginning to shut when he’d walked past Tubbo’s home. 

The lights in the windows were still on and he’d peered inside to find Tubbo sitting at his desk, paper stacked on every side of him. Ranboo had knocked on the door, prepared to help with whatever paperwork Tubbo was doing, but Tubbo spotted him in the window. He’d thrown Ranboo a thumbs up and then motioned for him to go back to bed. 

Ranboo’s still not sure if Tubbo had even gotten any sleep that night.) 

“It’s enough that you’re my friend, Ranboo,” Tubbo snorts in a broken off giggle, leaning his head against Ranboo’s shoulder. Ranboo pats his head gently and Tubbo lets out some sort of groan about not wanting to be treated like a dog (Ranboo can tell by the way that Tubbo relaxes into the touch that he’s actually very comfortable with whatever they’re doing and Ranboo knows him well enough to know that Tubbo just likes to be a brat sometimes). 

“You’re doing a great job as president, Tubbo,” Ranboo tells Tubbo, who in turn breaks out into a smile at the praise. The two don’t bother to speak again, instead sitting against the thick tree as they listen to the soft sounds of rainfall around them. 

It’s peaceful and it’s all that Ranboo’s ever really wanted. This is his home. He doesn’t care for wars and revenge or for killing Technoblade (no matter how much he’d like to land a fist in the man’s face for what he did to Tubbo). The only L’Manberg he wants is the only L’Manberg he’s ever known — one of peace. 

He peaks over at Tubbo, scarred hands picking at his own nails as Ranboo reaches a hand down to grab Tubbo’s fingers to stop him from picking off too much of a nail. Tubbo’s known nothing but war for his whole life. He’d spent his childhood ducking beneath arrows and dodging TNT beneath his feet. Tubbo’s never been able to understand peace because he’d never experienced it. 

But Ranboo looks over at L’Manberg. At the tall buildings and lanterns floating in the sky and he thinks that for someone who’s never fully understood peace, Tubbo’s done a pretty damn good job at solidifying a peaceful nation. 

“Hey, Ranboo,” Tubbo sits up, yawning softly as he covers his mouth with one hand, “So since you’re like, half-enderman or whatever, do you not drink water?” 

“What?” Ranboo narrows his eyes. Sometimes he can’t fully understand just where Tubbo is coming from with all of his questions. 

“Endermen don’t like water. You’re wearing your helmet right now so the rain doesn’t touch you. Does that mean you can’t drink water?” Tubbo asks, scraping a finger through a puddle of water next to him. 

“Oh! Uh, I can drink water, but I don’t particularly like it all too much. Kinda scratchy down my throat,” Ranboo laughs softly, fingers pressing against his throat as he imagines water burning its way down his throat. 

“What about milk? Cause it would really suck if you couldn’t drink chocolate milk.” Tubbo’s eyes are lit up and Ranboo can hardly tell that Tubbo’s probably running on no more than two hours of sleep today. 

“You’re a genius, Tubbo. I’ll just drink milk instead of water from now on,” Ranboo trails off into a laugh and his smile only widens at the sight of Tubbo staring up at him, face breaking out into possibly the happiest that Ranboo’s seen Tubbo in a long time. 

“Settled! Every cabinet meeting I’ll give you a glass of chocolate milk instead of water. I’ll even make it myself,” Tubbo announces, hands on his hips as if it’s the best idea he could’ve ever thought of. Ranboo almost points out that the cabinet meetings rarely last long enough to require refreshments (since Tubbo usually insists on doing everything himself) or that Tubbo’s never supplied Quackity or Fundy with even water (no less chocolate milk), but he keeps quiet at the sight of the smile on Tubbo’s face. 

“You’re the best, Tubbo,” Ranboo laughs as Tubbo lays back down on his shoulder now that he’s seemingly done with his little tangent. 

Meaningless conversation floats between the two boys as they talk about practically anything and everything. None of it even seems to matter, but Ranboo can’t help finding enjoyment in just sitting and talking to his best friend. Especially since it’s something he doesn’t get to do too often now that Tubbo’s busy with (as Tubbo likes to put it) ‘presidential shit’ all of the time. 

“Hey, Ranboo,” Tubbo speaks up after a few moments, not lifting his head from Ranboo’s shoulder. 

“Yeah?” Ranboo’s eyes dart over to Tubbo, who’s eyes are closed as he relaxes on top of Ranboo. Ranboo almost starts laughing at the way that Tubbo’s spread out underneath the tree (his legs are getting soaked from sticking out underneath), but he keeps himself quiet. 

“Thank you for being my friend. Seriously,” Tubbo whispers, running a hand through his damp hair. Ranboo smiles at the sudden words, mind drifting back to the first day that the two had met, when Tubbo had practically forced Ranboo to become his friend (he doesn’t regret it whatsoever, even if he had been pretty awkward during their first meeting). 

“Anytime, Tubbo, anytime.”

* * *

“Phil!” Ranboo yells out for the older man, running along the boardwalk to catch up to Phil’s long strides. Phil stops to wait for Ranboo, adjusting the green hat sitting on his head. 

“Hey, Ranboo. What are you up to?” Phil asks, continuing his walk as Ranboo follows him. Phil’s got a large red bag sitting on his shoulders, the top flap nearly bursting open from how much is stuffed inside of there. 

Normally, Ranboo would probably question the bag that’s bursting at the seams, but seeing as it’s Philza Minecraft himself, he probably has some good reason to be carrying around all that stuff. 

“Was just taking a walk and I saw you. Where are you going?” Ranboo’s head whips wildly side to side as he tries to see if Tubbo is anywhere nearby. He knows that despite Phil technically being Tubbo’s adoptive father, the two don’t currently have the best relationship. 

“You remind me of someone, Ranboo,” Phil muses aloud, not even hesitating before stepping out of L’Manberg’s borders and into the deep forest. Ranboo stops for a moment, but continues forward at the soft smile on Phil’s face. 

“Really? Who?” Ranboo can feel his tail swinging around at even the smallest bit of praise from Phil (although technically it might not be praise, but why else would Phil be comparing him to someone with such a kind smile?). 

“Ah, give me a second,” Phil bites his lip, pulling a netherite sword from the sheath at his side. Ranboo watches as Phil points the sword towards an eerie noise coming from their left. 

The enderman hisses wildly as it takes in the fact that Phil is staring at it dead in the eyes with a sword pointed at it’s throat. Ranboo shuts his eyes. He’s gotten used to it. He’s used to people killing endermen around him without any regard. 

But it still feels wrong. As if there’s some bond between him and the creature that his friends can slaughter without a second thought. It’s worse that he can hear their pained wails, that he can understand every dying word as they whisper to the stars to be taken back to their home — to the End. 

He knows that he’s not even fully an enderman. That he’s some sort of hybrid that’s never been truly accepted in any community, whether it be enderman, human, or whatever the hell it is that he doesn’t even know. But he still feels pain for his half brothers as they’re mercilessly slaughtered for the one thing people find of any use in them. 

“Oh, Ranboo, I’m really sorry, I forgot. Would you rather I not? I see how this could be uncomfortable.” Phil takes note of Ranboo’s shut eyes and the clenched fist at his side. Ranboo tentatively opens his eyes, staring at Phil who’s now lowered his sword from the enderman’s neck. 

“No one’s ever apologized to me for that before,” Ranboo whispers as Phil lowers his sword, the enderman seeming content to slink away into the shadows. 

“Well, maybe people should. I don’t think I’d appreciate it if people just killed other humans in front of me all the time,” Phil lets out a deep laugh, sheathing the shiny sword without a single stain on the black coat. 

And Ranboo feels like Phil truly cares for him, like more of a father than anyone he’s ever known (considering he’s never really known his father). The two continue to walk, the trees silent save for a soft hum echoing from Phil’s lips. 

“How loyal are you to L’Manberg?” Phil asks, stopping as he leans against one of the thicker trees. Phil reaches back to double check the tie on his bag and Ranboo stops dead in his tracks at the question. 

“Excuse me?” Ranboo mutters, but Phil raises an eyebrow as if he can’t be bothered to repeat himself, “I’m definitely loyal to Tubbo. Definitely. He’s my best friend.” 

“Tubbo’s your best friend? That’s kind of funny,” Phil snorts, almost yawning as he continues forward through the dark trees. Ranboo runs after him, grabbing onto Phil’s sleeve and tugging him backwards. Phil looks back at him, raising his eyes at the teen’s surprising strength (for someone with such a small backbone, he’s got a strangely tough grip). 

“What are you talking about?” Ranboo’s fist tightens around the green cloth of Phil’s sleeve and Phil looks Ranboo in the eyes (which makes him slightly uncomfortable since it kind of feels like a direct attack). 

“You consider Tubbo your best friend, but you’re not _his_ best friend,” Phil explains, shaking his arm free from Ranboo’s grasp, “that’s Tommy.” 

Despite his memory loss, Ranboo can remember Tommy. He can remember the loud blond who had protected him when they’d burnt down George’s house together. He can remember the way Tubbo would walk around L’Manberg at night, silver compass in hand as he stared at the night sky (perhaps hoping that Tommy would be staring at the same sky as him since they were so far apart now). 

It’s as if Ranboo can remember nothing except for Tommy now. Because even though Tommy is exiled, far away from any land of the SMP that’s even been touched, he is still Tubbo’s best friend. 

And Ranboo doesn’t even matter to anyone. 

“Do you wanna come meet Technoblade? You’re a lot like him,” Phil offers, starting up his walk again. 

Except for maybe Phil, who’s offering him a hand in the deep dark. Who’s like a father, despite being so much shorter than Ranboo. Phil, who’s now offering Ranboo a real home. 

“Yeah, I’ll come.” Ranboo runs up next to Phil, keeping a steady pace next to the older man. Phil shoots him a smile and Ranboo feels almost protected. 

No one cares about him except for Phil. He knows that much.

* * *

“Phil, you’re back! I can’t remember where I put those extra mending books and the voices are literally just lying to me-” Techno meets the two at the door, mounds of gold in his arms so full that they’re slipping between his fingers, “hey uhh who?” 

“Techno, this is Ranboo. Ranboo, this is Technoblade,” Phil explains as he reaches out to take some of the gold from Techno’s hands, but Techno takes a step back, narrowing his eyes at the stranger standing at the door of his house. 

“Government,” Techno almost hisses, scrambling back inside of his house. He shoves the gold into a chest, arms wildly waving in the air for Phil to not let Ranboo in (Phil, of course, doesn’t listen to him and immediately drags Ranboo inside.) 

“I’m not- I mean, not really- I just-” Ranboo stammers over his words, not sure how he’s supposed to respond to Techno. This is _the Technoblade_. The same man who was rumoured to destroy villages without leaving a single house behind. The same man who had beat Dream (who was practically a god) in a 1v1 fight. 

The same man who had destroyed the pale skin running down Tubbo’s face and had replaced it with scars and burns that still made Tubbo wince when he touched them. 

“I can smell the government on you,” Techno trails off into something of a snort, as if trying to be completely serious while unable to keep his voice steady. 

“He saw you in a meeting with Tubbo once,” Phil throws out from the kitchen, searching through the cupboards for something. He settles on three large red mugs, setting them down on the kitchen counter. 

“Tubbo’s friend, right,” Techno squints his eyes as he looks at Ranboo and Ranboo almost feels like he wants to shrink up and disappear from the intense eye contact, “no hard feelings about the whole… execution thing, right?” 

And something builds up inside of Ranboo. Like a fire tickling its way up his spine as every story of the festival that Tubbo’s ever told him passes through his brain. He remembers running a finger down one of the burns after Tubbo dared him to. He remembers Tubbo showing up to his home at 2 am in desperate need of more bandages. He remembers Tubbo’s hands shaking, tears welling up in his eyes at the sound of any nearby fireworks. 

Even if he’s realized that Tubbo doesn’t care about him nearly as much as he cares about Tubbo, he can’t forgive what Technoblade did. 

Techno clutches his face, hand covering his nose and blood dripping through his fingers. Ranboo’s hand is still raised, fingers curled into the same fist that he has just punched Techno with. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I just wanted-“ Ranboo can feel shame build up in his stomach at the sight of Technoblade, the _Blood God_ trying to stop a nosebleed that he’d caused, “That was for Tubbo.” 

“I like you, Ranboo,” Techno laughs, heading to the kitchen where Phil hands him a stack of paper towels. Techno leans over the sink as he washes his hands and Phil passes over a red mug to Ranboo, filled with hot chocolate. 

Ranboo takes a sip from the mug and the hot chocolate is surprisingly pretty good (especially considering he has no idea where Techno would get hot chocolate from since he lives in the middle of the woods). 

“Gotta get that government smell off of you though,” Techno reaches for his hot chocolate, sitting down at the kitchen table as he pressed a paper towel against his nose. 

“I’m not- I just- Phil told me to-” Ranboo stays standing in the middle of the house, fingers curling and uncurling at his side as the rest of him is unnaturally still. The twitching in his fingers is begging for him to just pick something up for no reason and just move it somewhere. His fingers are screaming to feel something in their grasp. 

Ranboo pushes that pain inside of him. 

“I remember you being able to say a lot more coherent sentences in L’Manberg,” Phil laughs glancing at Techno. Techno shrugs as he throws the crumpled up paper towel into the garbage, landing it straight in the middle. 

“Come on, we’re cooler than the government. I’m sorry for what I did to Tubbo, but listen, there was a lot of peer pressure!” Techno waves his hands as he speaks, fidgeting with the mug on the table in front of him, “I’m sure you understand how it feels to have that many people looking at you.” 

And for a moment, Ranboo thinks that he understands Techno. He can understand the feeling of peer pressure; of bending to the will of anyone else but yourself. Phil had told Ranboo that he and Techno were alike, but Ranboo never would’ve guessed that the similarities would run this deep. 

“I need to write this down,” Ranboo mutters to himself, searching through his pockets for the familiar memory book. _Do Not Read_ is hastily scrawled on the cover and Ranboo thumbs through the pages, hundreds of words flying past him. 

He scribbled across the pages, making sure to note where Techno’s house is and that Phil is with him. He adds a small drawing of what he can remember the house to look like in the corner as he finishes his notes. 

“Are you conspiring against me literally right in front of me?” Techno peers over Ranboo’s shoulder, trying to catch sight of whatever he’s writing. Ranboo shuts the book when he sees Techno next to him, catching his finger between the pages. 

“No, I just uh forget things a lot so I need to write them down,” Ranboo explains, tucking the book into his pocket. Techno shoots one more glance at the tucked away book and then seems to give up on seeing the contents, taking his seat at the table again.

“Did you want some info about this place to write down?” Phil asks, waving his hand for Ranboo to sit next to him. Ranboo’s hand immediately pressed against his pocket, searching for the book. Phil has already proven himself to genuinely care about Ranboo. Everyone knows about his memory issues (he’s never really tried to hide it before), but Phil is the first one to actually ask if he can help. 

Ranboo slowly stumbles over to the kitchen table, tripping over a stack of books that are laying on the floor for some unknown reason. 

One of the titles catches his eye. An old looking leather bound book, the cover chipping as if it had been handled many times in the past. Black script covers the front cover, one word splayed across the front. 

_Gods._

“What’s this book about? Are there… multiple gods?” Ranboo picks up the thick book, carefully wrapping hands around the cracked spine. It’s definitely a well lived book with creases in the pages from being laid open too often. 

“Let me teach you a little something about the Blood God, Ranboo.”

* * *

Ranboo wakes up cold, the red blanket that’s usually so carefully tucked around him is laying on the floor by his feet. He reaches to pull the blanket up, but his fingers scrape against the wooden floor and he slowly gets out of his bed. He makes sure to pick up the blanket and place it back onto his bed before getting on with this day. 

He rubs a hand against his forehead, trying to remember what he did yesterday. It’s something he tries every morning and every morning he can’t seem to remember a single thing. He picks up the memory book sitting on his bedside table, carefully flipping to the very last page with writing on it. 

_Blood for the blood god_ is written across the top of one of the pages in a cursive print that is definitely not his own. He sits down on his (now naked) bed and reads through yesterday’s pages of notes. 

There’s one line in particular that sticks out to him solely because it’s written in his own handwriting and it’s such an absurd thought that he can’t believe he was the one who wrote it. He reads over the sentence over and over again, dragging his finger underneath the sentence as if to make sure he hasn’t misread it. 

_No one cares about you but Phil. Tubbo doesn’t think of you the same way you think of him. Trust Philza. You trust Phil._

“Ranboo! Ranboooooo!” Tubbo’s voice rings out from his front door accompanied by repeated knocking. It’s almost ironic just how fast Tubbo showed up at Ranboo’s house right after Ranboo read something about not being able to trust him. 

Ranboo ducks underneath his bed, carefully hiding so that Tubbo won’t be able to see him. He knows Tubbo and after knocking, Tubbo will likely pear through the window to catch sight of Ranboo. Once he can’t see anything, he’ll give up and assume that Ranboo is still sleeping. 

Tubbo does exactly that. Ranboo doesn’t want to call Tubbo predictable (mostly because he’s not since you could piss him off once and you’d never know if he was going to forgive you immediately or make fucking nukes), but Ranboo definitely knows Tubbo well enough to predict a couple of his actions. 

Ranboo spends what seems to be an hour pacing back and forth across his room, memory book in his hands as he continues reading the same page over and over again. 

Tubbo is his best friend! How could Tubbo of all people not care about him? But the memory book is all he has to rely on now and he can’t exactly prove it wrong. 

Ranboo bangs a fist against his head. He’s so stupid. So _fucking_ stupid. Why can’t he just be normal? Why does he have to have the dumb memory issues to the point where he doesn’t know what his own best friend thinks of him. 

He’s always thought of his memory in the way that he may not remember events, but he remembers people. He remembers how he feels about people. It’s how he’s always known that Tubbo is his best friend. 

It’s how he now knows that he has some sort of positive relationship with Technoblade despite not remembering ever having met him. 

He flips over to the page with the unfamiliar writing which he can only assume belongs to Technoblade. His printing is small, the black letters thin at every angle, but neat enough to read. 

There’s about a paragraph detailing just how _strong_ Technoblade is. His mass amounts of strength and the fact that he was able to beat Dream in a duel. _Dream!_ The self proclaimed god of the SMP.

Ranboo doesn’t think he ever wants to be on Techno’s bad side. 

It’s been another hour as Ranboo’s been looking through his memory book. He’s added new notes as well, realizing that all of the information that Techno had given him had been mostly useless, just meant to scare him. 

(He doesn’t blame Techno. They literally met yesterday so Techno has no reason to trust Ranboo with any important information.) 

“Ranboo, open up! We need you!” Tubbo whines through the door, pounding against the dark wood. This time there’s another voice alongside Tubbo, repeating the same thing. 

“Hey guys!” Ranboo smiles as he pulls the door open to see Tubbo, Quackity, and Fundy. Tubbo has a smile on his face, excited at just seeing Ranboo, but Quackity and Fundy are frowning next to him. 

“Memory boy! I came by this morning, but you were asleep,” Tubbo pouts as he tries to throw an arm around the taller boy’s shoulders, ultimately failing after getting up on his toes since Ranboo is over a foot taller than him. 

“Oh yeah, uh, I did sleep in, yeah,” Ranboo trails off, voice shaking with each lie. Quackity looks at him, head tilted to the side as if trying to read for hidden meaning in any of Ranboo’s words. 

“We’ve got more important things than Ranboo sleeping in,” Fundy taps his foot against the ground, unable to keep still as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, “butcher’s army baby!” 

It’s then that Ranboo notices the bloodstained aprons hanging around their necks. At first, he’d thought that it was simply some kind of ‘cooking competition’ they’d decided to throw together because knowing Quackity, that man was as unpredictable as someone could be. 

But Ranboo leans closer and the red stains on the aprons begin to look less and less like jam and more and more like blood, dripping down the side. 

“What’s going on, guys?” Ranboo asks, making sure that his memory book is carefully tucked away in his pocket. His hand brushes against the sharp edge of the book and just the feeling of the cover is comforting to him. 

“We’re going to kill Technoblade.” Quackity runs a hand along the diamond axe attached to his waist. Ranboo can tell that killing Technoblade is a bad idea at the fact that Quackity’s axe isn’t even fucking netherite. 

“That is a very bad idea. I don’t think we should do that.” Ranboo fidgets with his fingers, glancing between the three boys in front of him. Tubbo has a smile on his face (just like he always does) and is looking up at Ranboo with the brightest eyes that he’s ever seen. 

“Ranboo, Technoblade tried to kill me and committed literal genocide on our country. He has to pay,” Tubbo’s voice breaks on the last word. It’s a small break, one that Quackity and Fundy likely haven’t noticed, but Ranboo has. Tubbo’s his best friend and Ranboo thinks that he’s noticed a lot less about Tubbo than his voice breaking. 

“He’ll kill you guys! I mean, no offense, but he is definitely stronger than you!” Ranboo’s mind wanders to the new pages in his memory book. The ones that had been written in a printing so different from his own that had detailed just how strong Technoblade is. 

Ranboo might not remember a lot, but all he needed to do was read that single page to know that Techno far outmatched whatever skills Quackity held in that battered diamond axe on his waist. 

“We’ve got strength in numbers! No way that stupid uh pig thing can fight off the three of us,” Fundy is still bouncing from side to side, unable to keep still fron the nerves building up on his stomach, “boom! We’ve got netherite!” 

“He beat _Dream_ in a fight! Have any of you guys beat him before? I don’t think so.” Ranboo’s hands whip wildly in the air as he tries to illustrate his point. 

“Ranboo, do you trust me?” Tubbo grabs Ranboo’s hands, intertwining their fingers together and waiting for an answer. Ranboo nods as Tubbo smiles, “we got this!” 

But it’s exactly because Ranboo trusts Tubbo that he can’t let him go fight Techno. Techno is too strong — too powerful. If Tubbo tries to fight Techno, Techno would likely be able to kill him for real this time. 

And Ranboo doesn’t want to lose Tubbo. 

“Let me go first to scout. My gear is better than yours.” Ranboo grips his netherite sword, showing it off to the group as he tries to think of a plan. He needs to warn Techno. If he tells Techno that they’re coming, then maybe he’ll spare them. 

It’s all he can do to protect Tubbo. He doesn’t care if Tubbo’s going to think of him as a traitor. He doesn’t care if he’ll have to leave L’Manberg. As long as he can keep his friends safe, he’ll do anything. 

“Fine. We’ll leave 10 minutes after you. Get going,” Quackity sighs, stepping aside from the doorway to let Ranboo through. Ranboo squeezes past the doorway, grabbing his memory book out of his pocket. As he prepares to leave, a hand grabs his shoulder, holding him back. 

“Be careful, Ranboo. I can’t lose you too,” Tubbo whispers, wrapping his fingers around the black cloth of Ramboo’s suit. Tubbo doesn’t even have to say it, but Ranboo can hear the guilt from exiling Tommy. The guilt from losing his best friend. 

Ranboo supposes that the feeling of not wanting to lose the other is mutual and if Ranboo doesn’t want to lose Tubbo, it likely goes both ways. 

But he remembers the notes in his memory book written in his own handwriting. The notes that had told him that Tubbo didn’t care about him. That he couldn’t trust Tubbo. 

He doesn’t know why he’d written that it why he could no longer trust his best friend, but it’s in his memory book which means he has no way for refute the claims. His memory book tells him that he should trust Philza. So he’ll trust whatever his book tells him and he’ll keep Tubbo at a comfortable distance. 

But even the memory book can’t stop himself from wanting to protect Tubbo at least a little bit. 

“I will.” Ranboo nods and Tubbo lets him go. Ranboo breaks into a sprint, memory book open in front of him as he reads the directions to get to Techno’s house. He has a simple plan. Find Techno, tell him that he needs to run before the ‘Butcher’s Army’ finds him, and make him promise to not hurt his friends in exchange for the info. 

There’s nothing that could go wrong

* * *

Things are going very wrong. 

For one thing, he got lost in the forest since the directions in his memory book weren't very clearly. For another, he only now realized that even though he supposedly had met Techno before, he has no recollection of it meaning he has literally no idea how to act around him. 

What’s he even supposed to say when he finds Techno? “Hey, I’m Ranboo and I don’t remember you, but my book says I trust you and my best friend is coming to kill you and I don’t want you to kill him so please run away”. 

Easy enough? 

“Hey, Ranboo, you came back!” a voice shouts at him as Ranboo trudges through the snow. Phil waves at him, bright green hat clearly visible through the snow. 

“Phil! Is Techno here? I need to talk to him,” Ranboo squeezes out between pants (it’s been a long walk). Phil points inside the house and Ranboo turns on his heel to run inside. He likely only has a few minutes before Tubbo and the others catch up to him and show up prepared to fight. 

“Hey Ranboo, what’s up- you are, holy crap, you are breathing really heavily. You good?” Techno stammers over his words a little as Ranboo nearly falls through the door of the house. 

“You need to run,” Ranboo pants, still tired from the far too long journey. His head whips from side to side as he tries to peer through the windows to see if anyone is coming. 

“Heh?” Techno closes the chest he was looking through, a piece of gold falling out of the top. Ranboo steadies himself on the wall. His head is spinning and everything feels like it’s too much. 

“I need you to promise me something before I tell you,” Ranboo waits for Techno’s answer. Techno nods as he shoves the gold back into his chest and Ranboo continues, “promise me that you won’t hurt Tubbo.” 

“Uh sure, I didn’t really have any plans on doing that anyways,” Techno trails off into a laugh, running his hands through the pink hair falling down his shoulders. Ranboo takes a steady breath, hands fidgeting at his side. 

“Okay so Tubbo’s coming to kill you,” Ranboo squeezes out in between a breath. Techno’s face immediately drops, hand rubbing against the white trim of his blue cloak. 

“HEH?” Techno repeats, frozen in place as his eyes dart wildly between Ranboo and the window. Phil is still outside, happily digging through the snow as he whistles. 

“Also Quackity and Fundy.” Ranboo bites his lip, swaying slightly from side to side as he speaks. It’s a nervous habit of his that he just can’t keep still. He’s always moving some way or the other. 

“Let me get this straight. You make me promise not to hurt someone and then tell me that the same person i just promised not to hurt wants to kill me?” Techno waves out the window, gesturing for Phil to come inside. Phil sets down the snow shovel he’s been using and makes his way back to the house. 

“I know you can beat them. It was in my memory book, you’re Technoblade, blood for the blood god or whatever. I just-“ Ranboo trails off, hands fidgeting at his side, “Tubbo’s not a bad guy. He’s just been making some bad decisions.” 

“Didn't we go over this yesterday? Tubbo doesn’t care about you as much as you think he does,” Phil points out, taking a seat on the couch as they speak. Phil throws his feet up on the table, ignoring the grimace from Techno as his shoes scrape against the polished oak wood. 

“I know he might not care about me, but I still care about him,” Ranboo thinks about the soft look in Tubbo’s eyes when he’d made him promise to be safe this morning, “I want him to be okay.” 

It’s hard for Ranboo to think that Tubbo of all people doesn’t care about him. The same Tubbo who he’d spent hours upon hours just sitting and talking about absolutely nothing. The same Tubbo who had been the first one to welcome him to L’Manberg. 

Tubbo was a good president and if he could just stand up to fucking Quackity or Dream, Ranboo thinks that maybe L’Manberg could’ve been good. 

But L’Manberg isn’t good and as much as he cares about Tubbo, he needs to get away from it all. 

“If i can't hurt them then what exactly am I supposed to do when they attack me with pitchforks and fire?” Techno snorts at his own joke, taking a seat next to Phil. Phil rolls his eyes and sits back more comfortably. 

“I was thinking the three of us run away from here and find Tommy. Tommy can convince Tubbo of anything. I’m sure of it,” Ranboo’s voice breaks on the last sentence. It’s stupid, he knows. He shouldn’t feel jealous that Tubbo is more attached to his childhood best friend than some guy he met a couple months ago. 

But he thinks that maybe if Tommy hadn’t convinced Ranboo to burn down George’s house, the three of them could’ve been friends. 

“Tommy,” Techno mutters the name, staring up at the ceiling. There are quite a few things that Ranboo knows yet not a single one is the reason why Techno’s eyes soften at the mention of Tommy, perhaps in the way that one would talk about their little sibling, “alright let’s find him.” 

Techno very quickly shoves his belongings into a bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Phil follows behind, an even larger bag than Techno’s on his back. Ranboo keeps an eye out for the butcher’s army. It only takes a few minutes for the three to set up a boat. It almost feels like they’ll be able to leave before Tubbo even shows up. 

Ranboo hears him first. 

Techno notices it too and Ranboo can only assume it’s an ability heightened by both Techno’s and his hybrid features. Phil glances back and forth as he loads into the neat, unable to tell what exactly made Ranboo jump out of the boat in a panic. 

“We’re like kidnappers now,” Tubbo laughs as the group of three match towards Techno’s house. Quackity shushes him and Ranboo watches Tubbo’s face fall at no one laughing at his joke (because Tubbo is a child and he should very well be allowed to act like one). 

“Where is he?” Quackity asks, running a hand along the diamond axe on his waist. Fundy steps in front of the group, trying to peer into the windows of Techno’s house. 

“Where’s Ranboo?” Ranboo can hear Tubbo mutter something as the short boy frantically searches through the snow for his friend. 

“Over there!” Fundy points towards the ocean where Techno is loading into the boat. The three break into a sprint towards the boat and Ranboo can see just far enough to watch Tubbo’s face fall at the sight of Ranboo sitting next to Techno. 

“Ranboo?” Tubbo whispers as Techno yells at Ranboo to get in the boat. Ranboo trips over his feet as he tries to crawl inside the boat. 

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” Ranboo whispers back, taking his seat next to Techno and Phil. Quackity and Fundy are yelling at him — screaming something about a traitor, but Ranboo can’t focus on anything but the frozen stare on Tubbo’s face. 

Tubbo is just staring at him, eyes wide and hands twitching at his side. His axe falls to the ground with a soft thud, the snow masking most of the sound. 

“Please, I can’t lose you too!” Tubbo screams as the boat begins to sail away. Tubbo kneels at the start of the ocean, reaching out to try and grab the boat. Quackity grabs his shoulder, holding Tubbo back so he doesn’t fall into the freezing water. 

“Forgive me!” Ranboo yells back, watching as Tubbo becomes slowly smaller and smaller. Techno and Phil shoot each other a look, not completely sure how they’re supposed to react to this. 

Ranboo watches as Tubbo fades from view. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the look on Tubbo’s face. The look when Tubbo had realized that his best friend had betrayed him. 

Ranboo thinks about his memory book, the page that had said that Tubbo didn’t care about it. Ranboo sincerely wonders if it was true. Tubbo had screamed for Ranboo not to leave him and to be honest, it did not sound like someone yelling for someone he didn’t care about. 

Ranboo’s memories are all melted together, like a story that he couldn’t quite read. Everything is too confusing. It’s only been a minute, but he already misses Tubbo and he can’t even tell if he should be caring for Tubbo or not. 

It’s at that moment that Ranboo realizes that he doesn’t exactly know who he is anymore and he can’t tell whether it’s for better or for worse.

**Author's Note:**

> you decide if this is a happy ending or a sad ending <3


End file.
